


Dean's Middle Name

by brothersinsync (ceoriginal)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 10:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3131576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceoriginal/pseuds/brothersinsync
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Mary have finally decided to call their soon-to-be son 'Dean', but they can't decide on a middle name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean's Middle Name

John walked to work that day. The shop was only about two miles from his house. His new house. The house that Mary had loved so much because of the way the light filtered down into the room that would be a nursery in less than a month. Because of the tree in the front yard. Because of the porch with the columns and the yard that he would eventually have to mow. They finally had a place together. It wasn't a very cold day for early December, so he left the impala, freshly waxed, in the driveway because Mary needed to run some errands. She didn’t mind walking, but she tired easily these days. And so, John walked.

\--

Mike Guenther looked up from the Ford he was working on and smiled at John when he arrived.

“All settled in?”

“Just about. Thanks again for your help this weekend.”

“No problem, John. It’s not like Mary was going to be lifting much with that belly.”

This made John smile even harder. “I almost can’t believe it. I’m gonna be a daddy…”

“Well, daddy. Were you gonna work today at all or just stand there grinning like a fool?” Mike threw a rag and his face. John caught it and went to work.

\--

He was elbow deep in grease working on the engine of a GMC when he heard the familiar roar of the impala’s engine. He watched as Mary deftly pulled into a spot in the tiny parking lot in front of his garage. He loved that about her. How she was a natural at anything. She could learn to drive anything, fix anything…she was an amazing cook, she knew facts about cultures that he never even knew existed. She was so smart and beautiful and she had fallen for him, of all people. He held his arms away as he leaned in for a kiss.

“Hi, honey. Almost done?”

“About 20 more minutes. Almost done putting this thing back together.”

“Ok, I’ll wait over here. I believe it’s your turn to cook tonight.” Mary smiled at him as she moved to the bench at the side of the room. “Hi, Mike.”

Mike had come out of the office and sat next to Mary. John couldn’t make out the conversation but they both kept looking over conspiratorially at him.

He came to a stopping point and moved to the work sink near the back of the garage. Mike joined him.

“So you guys decided on ‘Dean’, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s sort of a tribute to Mary’s mother, Deana.”

“I like it,” Mike said. “Still fighting over the middle name?”

“Yeah, Mary’s set on Francis. It doesn’t seem to flow right with Dean. I want something like Thomas. Something strong and unyielding. I want this boy to be able to go up against the world and win, ya know.”

“I know. I do. Well, hurry up and get that girl fed. Have the conversation after a nice meal. That’s how I soften up Kate.”

“Yeah, good plan.”

“I’ll lock up. Got some paperwork to finish up. Good night, John.”

“Thanks, Mike.”

John scrubbed at his arms until most of the grease had washed away.

“All set, hun?” Mary had snuck up behind him and snaked her arms around his waist.

He looked at her over his shoulder as he shook the excess water from his hand. He kissed her, a soft lingering kiss, before breaking away to reach for the towel next to the sink.

He placed an arm around her waist and lead her to the passenger seat. After she had swatted his hands away with a smile a few time, he made sure she was buckled and ran to the driver's side and started the car. He smiled again when the radio came on playing a new rock song he quite liked. He had yet to find one thing wrong with his beautiful wife, including her taste of music.

They both sang along to the chorus and mumbled along to the parts they thought they knew from the few times it had played so far. He would have to record it next time it came on while he was home.

“Remind me to get some more tapes. I need this song.”

“Actually, I got some while I was out today. I saw you were running low.”

John reached over and took Mary's hand. “Thanks.”

“Right. Both hands on the wheel, marine. Pregnant woman here.” She kissed his hand before throwing it playfully back towards the wheel.

–

John made Mary sit on the big puffy arm chair they had found at a yard sale and ran to get her the hassock. He then brought her the book she had been reading from the bedroom and told her to relax while he made dinner.

John knew how to make a few things well. One of them was mac and cheese. Mostly he had always just cooked simple dishes for himself because his mom had to work a lot after his dad left. He had called her a few times since he had gotten married to ask her advice on making Mary happy, but she was living at a home now and finally had time to relax. He didn't need her help tonight anyway. This mac and cheese would do nicely. Mary seemed to enjoy it when he cooked, even if he almost burned the place down.

 

_Ok. Pasta in the pot._

_Get the butter melting._

_Add the milk and cheese and a bit of flour_.

He tasted as he went.

_Hmmm, pepper, but just a bit._

 

When it was ready he plated two portions and took the food into the living room.

“What's with all the special treatment today?” Mary asked as he put the plates on the coffee table and brought over a folding card table, placing it over her lap.

“No reason,” he said, handing her a plate and fork. “You are special.”

She scooped some noodles onto her fork and blew on them before gingerly placing them into her mouth. Still too hot, she moved the food around quickly with her tongue before swallowing. John watched this process in anticipation to see if she liked it, his face expectant.

A soft moan escaped her lips as she looked to him. “It's perfect.”

He smiled, his eyes bright, before moving to the couch. He pulled over his own table and they ate in silence for a bit.

Mary finally spoke first. “I spoke with Mike today. He said that him and Kate will be able to come to the Christmas party.”

“That's great. Are you sure you still want to have it? You're not too tired?”

“John, I'm pregnant, not sick.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“No, I know, I know. I just-” John sighed. He knew his wife was tough. She could handle anything, but he couldn't help but be worried about his son. She had never been pregnant before. How did she know what was going to make her fall over or get dizzy or anything else he had read up about? So, he had been hovering too closely in recent months and he could see Mary getting agitated by it. He would walk her to bed, and any time she got up he was there to help her stand. He sat in the kitchen when she cooked and was ready to jump up at a moments notice to reach things on high shelves. He worried about her something fierce when he was at work. Mary had told him how it had made her feel, and he had been trying to be less jumpy lately, but sometimes he forgot. “I just don't want either of you get hurt.”

“I understand but you really need to stop treating me like I’m a fragile... egg.” She stopped eating. “Please. I know you don't wanna know about my past and I don't want to think about that part of my life either, but I had a life that made me stronger than you think,” she said in a huff.

“Don't get mad at me. Don't you do that.” He looked at her, tears in his eyes. She was right, she was stronger than him. They would fight sometimes, but this was different. This was him constantly annoying her even when he was trying to be helpful. He had joined the marines in hopes of learning a thing or two about the world and he had seen some bad stuff, but he still would tear up at the thought of losing Mary.

“Oh, honey. No. I'm sorry. Please.” Mary moved her tray table aside and he fought the urge to help her with it. She stood up and he fought the urge to move next to her to catch her. She came over to him and placed a hand on his cheek. John closed his eyes and leaned his face into her hand. “Let's talk about something else,” she said.

John nodded and opened his eyes to stare at this beautiful woman who was now standing so close.

She leaned down to kiss him. “I was talking to Mike about something else too,” she said into his lips.

“Oh?” He kissed her once more before pulling away. He moved his card table out of the way and pull her slowly into the couch after him. He leaned into her and kissed his way down her neck, the hand not holding himself up placed on her swollen stomach. Finally, he moved his mouth to her ear and vibrated against it as he asked, “What about?”

She placed a hand over his and squeezed. “You're still not liking Francis?” John moved back to stare into her eyes. Mary looked almost disappointed, yet she was trying to hide it.

He sighed and sat back from her, leaving his hand on her stomach.

“No. I just don't.”

They had taken almost eight months to agree on a name for little Dean. It had come down to Milton or Dean after each of their mothers. Finally John had decided that Milton was more of a studious name. He didn't want his son being picked on for his name. He also played the rhyming game with himself and while he had come up with 'mean Dean' and 'lean Dean' and 'preen Dean' it had not seemed as bad as 'wiltin' Milton' or 'molten Milton' or even 'kill Mil'. And he knew he was stretching. But he also knew that kids were mean and would come up with all manor of ways to hurt someone and he wanted his son to have a fighting chance. Now after all that fighting with himself, Mary wanted to go give him a stupid name like Francis.

“What don't you like about it?” She had switched mode now and there was a fire in her eyes that he never like directed at him. He loved the fire, and how she could stand up for herself against any monster the world would throw at her, whether it was someone cutting her in line or a person staring at her the wrong way. But when she turned that fire at him, he either had to get out of the way or stand there and try not to get burned.

“Nothing. It's just not good...” He approached cautiously.

“Well if you can't even say what you don't like about it-”

Yet, this was his son he was talking about and he wasn't going to back down just because his wife was stubborn sometimes. “It's stupid, ok?”

“Stupid? It was the name of my best friend growing up. He died a few years before my parents.”

He could see the pain in her eyes at that and knew there was more to the story, but that was not the point of this conversation. She didn't want to talk about her past? Then she couldn't bring it up in arguments either. “So this is about naming him after your friend, after you're already naming him after your mother?”

“Me naming him?! You agreed. I thought we were in this together.”

“I though we were, but you just won't take any of my suggestions seriously.” Even before he had conceded to Dean, she was pressuring him to side with her.

“Well what do you suggest then?” Mary yelled.

“Thomas.”

“Thomas? Dean Thomas!?”

“Yeah.” John was yelling now, too.

“Name one good person that was named Thomas.”

He had researched this name with the help of a very friendly librarian, where he learned that the name meant 'twin'. He had hoped that by giving Dean the middle name for twin that he would one day find someone with which he would become inseparable and they could look out for each other. He also knew a few famous names. “Edison, Jefferson! – did you feel that?” John stopped shouting and pressed him hand firmly on Mary's stomach. “He kicked!”

Mary stopped and closed her eyes. When both had been quiet for a few seconds, Dean kicked again. “I don't think he likes us fighting.”

“Maybe not.” John waited with his hand there, silently taking stock. He did not want his son mad at his before he was even born. What kind of relationship would they have then? But more than that, he didn't want Mary mad at him. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm sorry, too.” Mary leaned in to kiss John before saying softly, “but Thomas? It sounds so formal.”

Now that they had calmed down a little bit, they could have this conversation without getting defensive. Yet another thing he loved about her, about this relationship. They might fight, but they loved each other, and, in the end, they would always choose family over pride. “Thomas. It's a good, firm name. It flows off the tongue.”

“It's not a bad name, but I just don't know why you are calling Francis stupid.”

“Ok, not stupid. Just not... fitting. I looked it up. Francis means Frenchman.”

“Frenchman?” Mary curled her lip up in discussed.

“Yeah, I mean, ' **leader of ten people,** Frenchman? or  ' **leader of ten people, twin** '?”

“Don't forget 'the City of Win'”

John laughed. “You always did like the literal translation my my last name.”

“Ok, Dean Thomas Winchester. How do you like that, baby boy?” Mary looked down to her stomach.

Dean kicked again. “He likes it!” Mary smiled up at John now, a sparkle of glee in her eye.

John leaned in to kiss Mary on the forehead. “I love you, Mary.”

“I love you, too, John.” She rested her head on his shoulder and soon was softly snoring.

He looked around his living room. Most of the furniture was old things Mary had found at garage sales or handed down from her parents. He had contributed almost nothing to the choice of the items in his house and yet he loved it. He had chosen her and she had chosen him, and that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> [Hiddlesnatural](http://hiddlesnatural.tumblr.com/)'s headcanon middle name for Dean is Thomas. 
> 
> “I have a whole thing where it was almost "Francis" and Bobby and Mary argued over it and Bobby won. But I'm not sure if Bobby knew them when Dean was a baby, so I say that John and Mary fought over it. And John won.”


End file.
